


There's Someone Inside My Head (And It's Not Me)

by LessAttitudeMoreAltitude



Category: Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: (streets are not a fun place for ANY kid), Acceptance, Bad Binding Practices, Dysphoria, Ezra gets to feel valid for the first time in his life, Gen, Implied Child Abuse, Internalized Transphobia, Kanan's a good dad from the getgo, Trans Character, Trans!Ezra, heat exhaustion, some discussion of body parts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-05
Updated: 2020-06-11
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:28:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24554668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LessAttitudeMoreAltitude/pseuds/LessAttitudeMoreAltitude
Summary: Ezra is trans. Of course, he has no idea what that means. As far as he knows, "Ezra" is just a mask to put on to make him feel better. And if wrapping up his chest means people mistaken him for a boy... well he certainly wasn't going to complain.
Relationships: Ezra Bridger & Kanan Jarrus
Comments: 9
Kudos: 156





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> It's Pride Month, and I'm finally getting around to writing a little thing for one of my favorite headcanons: Ezra being trans. I've never done it before because I thought it would be too difficult (i.e. make me dysphoric), and while it was definitely not easy, I actually also found it to be a little cathartic.
> 
> This is going to be a two parter (maybe with some follow up oneshots that take place throughout the series).
> 
> Note: Ezra has no idea what trans people are and so still uses his deadname and the wrong pronouns for himself internally when he meets the Ghost Crew
> 
> TW: Dysphoria, internalized transphobia. (Most of Ezra's dysphoria is centered around his chest).
> 
> This takes place right after the pilot episode.

Ela had her arms crossed tightly against her chest as she gazed into the small cabin. She obviously hadn’t really thought this through. It never occurred to her that she would have to share a _room_ with someone. Least of all, this brute of a purple beast. How was she possibly going to hide this?

“Don’t worry.” Zeb clapped her on the back hard, making her jerk forward with a small hiss of pain. “I don’t bite.”

She gave him a slight glare, rubbing out a cramp in her left arm. “Well I’m getting top bunk!” She quickly ran forward and climbed into the bunk to stake her claim, ignoring the sharp pain in her lower ribcage.

Zeb rolled his eyes. “Alright… but only because you’re smaller than me.”

“I’m not _that_ small!” she protested, cringing internally at how high her voice squeaked. 

“Ezra?”

She stiffened as she looked over to see Kanan in the doorway. “Settling in?”

“He’s settling,” Zeb replied gruffly. “At least enough to steal the top bunk.”

Kanan gave a small smile at that. “Well I’m about to cook some dinner. Ezra, you wanna come with me? I can show you around the galley.”

“Sure,” she replied, gingerly jumping down. Being with Kanan felt just a little safer than Zeb right now. After all, he was the one who invited her on board. 

As she followed Kanan, Ela tried to breathe slowly and shallowly. Her ribcage was killing her. She’s had these bandages on for… Stars, it’s been over twenty-four hours. She could feel the sores forming at the edges. It’s a miracle she didn’t pass out on Kessel. Of course, Kessel hadn’t been this _hot_. Why had they turned up the heat? 

She gave a small huff, resisting the urge to reach up and adjust her binding. She couldn’t risk taking them off. Without them, her stupid boobs stuck out against her shirt even when she hunches over.

“So this is the galley,” Kanan said as he walked in. He started to pull out a variety of food stuffs and equipment. “You’re welcome to come and scrounge whenever, but we also eat meals together around nineteen hundred.”

Ela frowned. “Nineteen hundred?”

“Seven in the evening.”

“Oh.”

Kanan glanced over at the bolted down table and benches. “Might be a tight fit…”

Ela sighed as she sat down, rubbing out a crap that had seized her thigh. Food was good. All she’s really had in the last day is a couple jogans and meal bars offered to her from the crew. But honestly, she just wanted to sleep. The last twenty-four hours had been exhausting in more ways than one, and _kriff_ her chest hurt. One of her ribs felt like it was on fire. She was pretty sure it got cracked when that Imperial grabbed her. Just her luck.

And hell, why was it so _hot?_

“Ezra?” She looked up to see that Kanan was gazing at her with a small frown. “Are you alright?”

“Y-Yeah.” She cleared her throat, lowering her voice a little. Her voice didn’t usually give her away, but she also hasn’t spent this much time with anyone in… well, a while. “I guess I’m just tired.”

Kanan’s frown just deepened. “Are you hurt?”

“What?” That was when she realized that she was unconsciously cradling her side. She snapped her arm away. “N-No…” 

“Ezra, it’s fine if you are.” Kanan put down whatever he was working on. “Let me grab the medkit.”

“No!” This was bad. “Really, Kanan! I’m fine, I’m…!” She cleared her throat again. “I-It’s just a bruise.”

Kanan’s eyes narrowed skeptically. “Listen, you’re a part of this crew now. And on this ship, we take care of _all_ our crewmates. There's no need to ignore an injury.” He started walking to the other side of the galley.

“I-It’s just a bruise,” Ela insisted, panic starting to set in. 

Kanan gave a chuckle as he pulled out a plasteel box. “Kid, you’re a terrible liar.”

“N-N-No, I-I…!” She can’t breathe. Oh stars, she can’t _breathe_. Her body tried to cough, to gasp for air, but the small gulps of air aren’t enough to stave off the blackness encroaching on her vision. 

“Kid? Kid?!” 

It sounded distant, like her head was underwater. She felt oddly detached until a pair of hands were on her arms.

 _Ela was shoved up against the wall of the alley, the dealer’s hands pinning her arms with a painful grip. “Looks like_ **_someone_ ** _wanted to play dress up…”_

“NO!” She jerked from the hands, pain exploding in her side. All she remembered was listing to the side before passing out.

* * *

“Kriff…” Kanan cursed under his breath. He gently laid Ezra down on the bench, only now noticing that the kid was sweating up a storm. He quickly opened the medkit and pulled out the medisensor, his mind buzzing with what might have happened. It must be an older injury for an infection to have set in. He set the sensor to ‘Human’ before scanning Ezra’s torso for the injury. 

The first thing the medisensor spat out was he had a low-grade fever (yeah, no _kark_ ). Then with yellow indicators dotting the simplified human diagram, it listed out any injuries he had.

Kanan frowned. There wasn’t much. Just a few spots around Ezra’s chest that indicated skin lesions and another indicating that his right tenth rip was fractured.

That’s it? No sign of infections? No elevated white blood count or unhealed lacerations? That didn’t make sense. Why was Ezra so _hot?_

The medisensor continued to run until it spat out a suggested diagnosis: _Heat exhaustion_.

Kanan just stared at it for a moment. Ezra was suffering from a heat illness? He gave a light scowl as he put the medisensor away. The kid must have not had enough water with all of the excitement. Kanan imagined these last couple days must have been one hell of a wild ride for a street rat. He gave Ezra’s shoulder a little shake. “Ezra?”

The kid gave a small moan but otherwise didn’t react. That wasn’t good. He needed to get the kid’s temperature down. Kanan slipped off Ezra's vest before pulling his shirt off over his head, cringing at how wet it was with sweat. His brow furrowed slightly at the sight of dirty bandages wrapped around the kid’s chest. Ezra must have broken his rib on the street and thought wrapping it was the best he could do. This certainly explained the heat exhaustion. Kanan started to undo them… 

Only to immediately stop. 

“... oh,” Kanan said softly. This would explain Ezra’s panic earlier. He bit his lip. He _had_ to get Ezra’s temperature down. And these bindings were doing much more harm than good right now. 

Quickly formulating a plan, he stood and went to lock the door to the galley. He grabbed a couple ice packs from the medkit and cracked them to get the reaction working. Then taking a deep breath, Kanan quickly began to remove Ezra’s bandages. He hissed in sympathetic pain as he revealed the open sores that laid beneath them. Working clinically, he placed the ice packs along either side of Ezra’s torso. Then he applied the boneknitter to his broken rib and rubbed the sores with antibacterial cream. 

Once he was done treating the kid, Kanan covered him with his shirt and stood. Letting out a calming breath, he grabbed a glass of water and placed it on the table before sitting across from where Ezra lay. Hopefully he would wake in a couple minutes. Then Kanan would make sure the boy drank some kriffing water. 

* * *

Ela let out a small moan as she slowly crawled her way back to consciousness. Something _cold_ was pressed up against her sides, but at least now she could breathe more easily. Her eyes fluttered open to the unfamiliar sight of clean durasteel. What was going on? With a groan, she pushed herself to sit up. The cold wet fabric over her chest started to drift down, and she automatically grasped it to keep herself covered.

“Hey…”

Ela yelped, jerking away from the voice and holding the fabric even tighter against her chest. Her eyes immediately focused on the man sitting across from the table. It took a moment for her mind to knit back together the events of the last couple of days. 

And then the blood drained from her face. Kanan… Kanan _saw?_

“Drink this water,” Kanan said, his voice clipped as he pushed the glass toward her.

She stared at it without being able to move. How could she possibly drink water when _Kanan knew?_

“I treated your sores and have a boneknitter working on your fractured rib,” Kanan said, his voice even. 

Her sores? A boneknitter? Suddenly Ela realized that she did feel a slight vibrating at the bottom of her rib cage. She looked down to see some sort of contraption stuck to the skin over her broken rib. And her fresh blisters and sores had something on them making them… well they didn’t hurt as much as they usually did when she took her bandages off. 

Speaking of, Ela quickly looked around the galley for her bandages. She needed to wrap herself up _now_.

“I threw them out.”

She flinched, looking back at Kanan. His expression was blank and her stomach dropped painfully. “K-Kanan…” she breathed, her vision blurring with tears. Her mind was whirring violently, all sorts of scenarios flashing through her mind’s eyes. Kanan hadn’t known she was a freak before. That she had lied to him about _everything_ … What was he going to do to her?

“Binding your chest like that is dangerous, you know that, right?”

“I…” She shook her head. None of those words made sense. “What?”

Kanan pushed forward the glass of water. “Drink. You’re dehydrated.”

Ela looked down at the glass. Swallowing compulsively, she slowly nodded. Water _did_ sound good. She was about to reach forward for it when she realized that her boobs were _only_ blocked off by her sweat soaked shirt. She quickly drew her hand back, pressing the fabric tightly against her chest. Nausea and disgust rose up, the room swaying dangerously

Kanan slid out of his seat and turned around so his back was facing her. “Put your shirt on,” he said. “Then drink the water. I won’t tell you twice.”

“You’ve already told me twice,” Ela snapped, although she almost immediately regretted it. The last thing she should be doing is antagonizing a man who not only _knew_ but was _right here_. 

She looked up at Kanan’s back. He showed no indication of turning back around or even glancing over his shoulder. Still, Ela slid off the bench and turned away from him as she put her shirt back on. It might be slightly stiff and dirty but it was better than the current alternative. 

But once it was on… she looked down and saw the bumps. A small sob bubbled out of her. This was _awful._ Why did Kanan have to take her bandages away? Kriff, she _needed_ these stupid bags of flesh to just go _away_. 

“You need to drink water,” Kanan repeated in that same flat voice. 

Weakness. She could _not_ show weakness, especially in this kind of enclosed environment. Just because Kanan knew didn’t mean she had to give up or give in. Swallowing back her tears, Ela turned back around. Kanan’s back was still turned to her. She hadn’t expected that. 

Kark, she _was_ thirsty. She practically lunged towards the table as if Kanan might swipe the glass from her grasp. Chugged down the liquid, Ela moaning as relief coolness spread out from her core. She let out a sigh as she put the glass back down.

“We need to have a small talk.”

She suddenly stiffened as she looked back up at Kanan. He was looking over his shoulder slightly at her. Ela immediately sat down on the bench and hunched over, trying to hide her chest under the edge of the table. “I…” Her mind was scrambling for some sort of excuse he would accept.

“I’m not going to hurt you, Ezra,” Kanan assured her. “That’s the name you prefer, right? Ezra?”

Ela frowned, feeling lightheaded. She looked up at Kanan dumbly. “What?”

Kanan slowly sat back down across the table from her. “Is Ezra a cover? A codename? Or is it just what you prefer?”

The backs of her eyes burned as her shoulders trembled. She had no idea how to answer that question. It _was_ a cover. A fake version she had to cast over herself just because it felt _better_. 

Kanan gave a soft sigh, making her flinch. “What do you want me - and the crew - to call you?”

Ela let out a shuddered sigh. There was no hiding it now. Kanan knew she wasn’t really a boy. She sniffed and swallowed back tears before she spoke. “My… my _real_ name is…”

“I didn’t ask for your ‘real’ name,” Kanan interjected. “I asked what you _want_ to be called.”

It wasn’t that she didn’t understand the question. She just didn’t understand _why_ Kanan was asking it. 

“I… I like being called Ezra…” she murmured, her chest tightening with fear. She hated her real name. She always has. When she realized early on that people on the streets would often mistaken her for a boy, she leapt at the opportunity to change everything about herself. She found boy clothes. She cut her hair. She started going by her grandfather’s name. And for the most part. it worked. When people screamed after her, using words like ‘he’ and ‘him’, it felt _nice_. In a strange way, it even felt safe, despite having to scrounge and scape to survive.

The worst days were those when someone discovered the truth. The pain, the unwanted touching… they became just that much worse because they kept referring to her as a _girl_.

Kanan shifted in his seat slightly, drawing Ela back to the present. Now she wondered if staying on the _Ghost_ was even worth it. Sure, they were giving her a safe bed and regular access to food, and the thought of having some sort of purpose - of being a _Jedi_ \- had given her a glimmer of hope.

But was it really worth it if they were going to treat her like a girl all the time? Of course, that was assuming Kanan even _wanted_ her to stay, now that he knew. 

“Do you know what being trans is?”

Ela glanced up at Kanan with a small frown before shaking her head. None of the things Kanan was asking made any damned sense.

He leaned forward slightly, folding his hands on the table. “Some people… they’re unhappy with the body they were born with. As humanoids, we generally grow up as male or female. And that works for most people. But it just doesn’t for others.”

She could only stare at him. While on one hand, she had no idea what Kanan was getting at, on the other… his words were resonating with her very core. 

“Ezra… Are you a boy?”

Her stomach clenched painfully as she shrank into herself. “N-No…” she murmured, feeling like garbage. 

“Do you want to be?”

 _Yes_. Her throat had closed up and she felt as though she was going to tremble out of her own skin. She didn’t know how to respond. Kanan hadn’t hurt her yet, and she hadn’t seen or heard any of the usual mocking or disgust she was used to. But what if that changed if she actually, _explicitly,_ admitted that she would do anything to be a boy? That she constantly wanted to tear her boobs off, stop the horror that happened every month… 

To just be called Ezra. To be _him_. 

“I think you’re trans,” Kanan said when she offered up no response. “You’re… a boy trapped in the wrong body. That’s why you prefer using a boy’s name. It’s why you bind your chest.”

_A boy trapped in the wrong body._

Ela let out a shuddering exhale, feeling as if she’d been punched in the sternum. Tears finally started to fall as she ( _he?)_ realized he had never heard something that sounded so _right_ in her ( _his!)_ entire life. It perfectly encapsulated everything about… _him_.

“Ezra?”

Never had his name sounded so good. It rolled off Kanan’s tongue, low and resonant, and it felt like home. He looked up at the older man, hastily wiping his tears away. 

Kanan looked as if he were about to say something, but then he hesitated. Slowly, he reached over and placed a hand on Ezra’s shoulder. It was warm and reassuring, just like it had been after they had rescued the wookiees. Kanan gave a small smile. “You’re not alone anymore. I promise, no matter how all of this plays out… I’m on your side.”

The gentle hum in the back of his head rang just a bit stronger, and Ezra knew - somehow _knew_ \- that Kanan’s words were sincere. Ezra’s eyes began burning again, and he had to quickly look away to hide them. He was just reeling, overcome with emotion. He still couldn’t quite get his head around everything that has just happened in the last few minutes. Everything felt completely different... and yet the same. Never before has Ezra felt this _seen_ before. 

It was both liberating… and terrifying.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Dysphoria, some internalized transphobia, brief implication of hypothetical CSA. Ezra also still occasionally uses the wrong pronouns in his head.

“I’m not going to tell the others,” Kanan said quietly. “Not until you’re ready. But in the meantime, you need to take care of yourself.”

Oh Stars, she (no, _he_ ) had completely forgotten about the others. And the fact that he was technically supposed to be bunking with _Zeb_. And Kanan had thrown out his bandages. What was he supposed to do? 

El… Ezra looked over at the medkit. “D-Do you have more bandages in there?” His voice was a little hoarse from the pent up emotions. He found he liked it. He should have heart-stopping panics more often.

“Oh no,” Kanan said, grabbing the kit and pulling it away from Ezra. “You are _not_ binding yourself like that again. It’s the reason you collapsed with heat exhaustion and is probably the reason your rib broke in the first place.”

“What am I supposed to do until then?!” Ezra squeaked, crossing his arms and pressing his stupid chest in. It was an awkward position, but he’d take it over having his boobs sticking out.

Kanan hummed, thinking about it for a moment. “I have an old jacket you can wear,” he said. “It’ll be big on you, so it should help…”

That sounded _humiliating_. “You can’t seriously expect me to wear some random oversized jacket forever…” Ezra whined. Besides, the others would ask _why_ he was wearing it, and what was he supposed to tell them?

“Just for today,” Kanan insisted. “Your clothes could use a wash anyway… We’ll just say you’re borrowing my clothes in the meantime.”

“And what about tomorrow? Or the day after that?!” Any calm Kanan had imbued him with before was effectively gone. 

“ _Ezra_.” Kanan had his hands on Ezra's shoulders again, the comforting hum back in his head. “By tomorrow, we’ll be at Savareen’s shadowport. Bounty hunters and the like often are in need of compression shirts, so I should be able to find you something there.”

“Com…?” Ezra had no idea what a compression shirt was, but it _sounded_ like something good. Maybe. “Are you _sure_?”

A moment passed where Kanan just looked at him. He was smiling, but there was some emotion in his eyes that Ezra couldn’t pin down. Before Ezra could even question it, it was gone. “Worse comes to worse, we’ll figure out how to tape you down. I’m not an expert but…” Kanan scoffed. “Honestly anything is better than what you were doing.”

Ezra wanted to argue, but the words died on his tongue. She had been wrapping herself like this for almost two years now. And it had never been pretty. Unable to breathe, her stints in the Capital had to be cut shorter than she would have liked. He almost always had blisters and this was far from the first time his ribs had been cracked… Although not all of those instances were because of his bandages.

Honestly, it was just so _surreal_ to be talking about this with, well, _anyone_. That sh- _he_ wasn’t just some crossdressing freak. Or a stupid child trying to make ‘play’. There was an _explanation_ for how he felt. It was an actual _thing_. Kanan was talking about all of this so casually, like this was just… normal. He's never felt _normal_ before.

“So…” Kanan’s hand was on his shoulder again. Ezra found that he really liked it. There was nothing possessive or aggressive about it. And it helped emphasize the strange feeling of familiarity he felt with Kanan. Stars, he’s never felt this _safe_ and _calm_. “Let’s get to my cabin, and I can give you my jacket.”

Ezra’s stomach dropped at the words, and he looked over at the galley door in panic. Now that he thought about it, it was a miracle no one had come in in the last… how long has it been? Half an hour? An hour?

He heard Kanan take in a deep breath, and he looked to see Kanan also looking at the door, his eyes narrowed as if he was concentrating on something. Ezra frowned slightly in confusion. What was he doing?

“Everyone is preoccupied with their duties,” Kanan said. “C’mon. No one’ll bother us.”

“H-How...?”

“The Force connects all living things.” Then Kanan gave a small huff. “I can sense the others’ signatures, so I know where they are.”

Ezra bit his lip. The Force still meant almost nothing to him. Beyond a vague impression that the ‘Force’ was basically the instinct sh- _he_ always had always relied on - the instinct that had kept him safe - it was a lofty concept. But Kanan really could do that with just his mind, he wasn’t about to complain.

Kanan pressed a button on a control pad, and Ezra saw that the door had been locked. Once it hissed open, Kanan gently pushed on his back, beckoning him forward.

His arms across his chest tightened, and he had to focus on breathing evenly. Kanan seemed certain, but Ezra still felt like the threat of another crew member seeing him was just around every corner. 

Thankfully, Kanan was right. There was no one in sight during the walk from the galley, through the common area, and into Kanan’s cabin. Ezra let out a sigh of relief as the door closed behind them. “Okay…” he murmured to himself. Things were okay so far. There was no reason it wouldn’t stay that way. 

At least, that’s what he told himself. Unfortunately, her mind and body seemed to think that notion was preposterous. 

Kanan was rummaging through his closet before he pulled out a large coat. He held it out in front of him, inspecting it. “Yeah this should keep you covered…” he said somewhat sarcastically, his eyes scanning the length. Then he looked over at Ezra. “Besides, your clothes really _could_ use some washing.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Ezra replied indignantly, even though his skin was itching against the fabric of his clothes. 

Kanan raised an eyebrow. “Kid, when was the last time you actually washed those clothes?”

He pressed his lips together, not wanting to answer. She knew she was a dirty street kid, but admitting it out loud always made him feel even _dirtier_. 

Thankfully, Kanan didn’t seem to be looking for an actual response. “Thought so.” He handed Ezra the coat. “I also have pants with a drawstring you can wear. We can pin up the ends so you don’t trip over yourself.”

Ezra looked down at the old coat, rubbing his thumbs over the fabric. “I’m gonna look ridiculous…” he mumbled.

Kanan shrugged as he dug through a drawer. “Unless you have any suggestions, you’ll just have to make do, kid.”

He glanced down only to immediately look back up again, pressing his arms back against his chest. Okay, yes. Looking like a kriffing child in their father’s clothes was infinitely better than having the others see _those_. 

Ezra glanced over his shoulder at the door. There was no way to know how the others would react to him. Maybe with Kanan’s help, he could keep this hidden forever, but… Ezra was going to have to bunk with _Zeb_. How was he supposed to hide this night after night after…?

“Hey…!”

Ezra wasn’t sure why there was panic in Kanan’s voice until he felt Kanan’s hands on his arms. That was when she realized she was hyperventilating. 

“ _Breathe_ , Ezra…”

He shook his head furiously. How could he possibly breathe when he’s going to have to hide his stupid horrible body from that kriffing smelly Lasat…?!

“With me…” Kanan took one of Ezra’s hands and pressed it against his chest before taking a deep breath. “In… Out…”

Ezra could only stare at his hand, suddenly very preoccupied with the feeling of Kanan’s heartbeat. It was so slow, how could it be so slow? He watched the way his hand rose and fell slowly. Normally this kind of situation would have sent her scrambling for an escape, but instead it seemed to be invoking a deep sense of calm over him. 

“That’s it,” Kanan said quietly. “Just breathe.”

He hadn’t even realized that his breathing had slowed. Ezra let out a shuddered breath as he looked up at Kanan.

Kanan gave a strained smile. “Better?”

Ezra nodded shakily. He gazed at Kanan in awe. Like, he knew Kanan was a Jedi but more than that… Kanan not only accepted the way Ezra acted, but made Ezra feel like an _actual_ boy. Kanan treated him like a _person_. 

No, he _would not cry again_.

Kanan let out a soft sigh, letting Ezra’s hand go. “I know this is… complicated. And…” 

He looked away, his eyes narrowed with some emotion Ezra couldn’t identify. Was it… fear? Guilt? Ezra’s chest started to tighten again. Was Kanan regretting taking Ezra on board?

Then Kanan gave a small shake of his head. “We’ll figure this out,” he said quietly. “If nothing else, I’m going to make sure you’re safe.”

A part of him wanted to whine. How could he stay safe if he had to live in close quarters with all these people? What if Zeb found out? Ezra could already see his reaction in his mind’s eye. The confusion, the inevitable shift into treating Ezra like a delicate kriffing flower… 

Kanan hummed thoughtfully, looking between Ezra and the door. “Would you feel more comfortable bunking with me?”

The offer caught Ezra by surprise. At first it filled Ezra with an impossibly _worse_ dread. Kanan was the one person he actually felt _safe_ with, and the last thing he would want to do is jeopardize that. Besides, why would Kanan even _want_ her to sleep in the same cabin as him?

“Of course I’d give you personal space,” Kanan said quickly. “Privacy in the mornings and evenings… But at least you wouldn’t have to worry about hiding yourself.”

 _Says you_. Sure, Kanan already knew, but that didn’t mean she wanted him seeing _any_ indication of her disgusting body.

But he wasn’t wrong. At least he _knew_. Ezra wouldn’t have to come up with excuses or go out of his way to hide himself. Even if Kanan just happened to glance something… it was a known factor. 

_I’m on your side._

Ezra swallowed. He believed Kanan. He did. A voice in his head was screaming _trust him trust him trust him_ … he just couldn’t completely ignore a small corner of his mind that was whispering doubts. _But what_ **_if_ ** _…?_

Kanan sighed. “I’m sorry that I don’t have an ideal solution. But unless you want to come out to the others…”

“No!” Ezra said quickly, lightheaded at just the thought. “I…” He looked around Kanan’s cabin. It was very different from Zeb’s. Beyond the smell, Zeb’s cabin had posters and pictures attached to the walls, personal effects and magazines scattered around… But Kanan’s cabin was just _empty_. He hadn’t enough much about it before, but there wasn’t any sign that anyone actually lived in here. Before, the only sign had been the strange singing that had called to him. 

It was oddly reassuring for some reason. Maybe it was because Ezra didn’t feel as much like an intruder. 

“I’ll even let you have the top bunk,” Kanan said with a half-joking smile. 

Ezra smiled back at that. “Yeah okay.” Something unwound in his chest, and he felt the tension slowly ease out of him. “Th-That sounds good.”

Kanan seemed to relax a bit too at that. “So that’s all straightened out. Now I need to figure out some excuse for the change…”

“Oh, that’s easy!” Ezra said. “Just tell them I can’t stand Zeb's smell. Which like… isn’t a _total_ lie.”

Kanan chuckled, patting his shoulder. “Alright then.” He placed a pair of loose pants in Ezra’s hands. “I’m going to step out. Change out of your clothes, and I’ll make sure they’ll get washed.”

“Okay…” He watched as Kanan stepped out of the cabin. The door closed, and Ezra was left alone.

He looked down at the clothes in his hands. This was really going to make for a comical image. But the thought of getting out of his grimy clothes _was_ appealing. Blowing out a shaky sigh, he glanced at the door again before stripping off his clothes. 

Ezra looked down at his bare chest. For once, she wasn’t fixated on her boobs, but at the boneknitter still vibrating quietly against his broken rib. He poked at the little device. His rib didn’t hurt anymore, so he grabbed the edge of it and slowly peeled it off his skin. Turning the knitter over, he found a switch and flipped it before rubbing his rib again. Man, what a useful tool… 

Putting the boneknitter aside, Ezra looked back down at his older scars and the small bandages covering his fresh sores. The scars were mostly older sores and cuts from his chest binding that never healed properly. Probably because she had never had the supplies to treat them. And she refused to go out into the city without wrapping her chest, and doing that always made them worse…

Ezra poked at the bandages. These new sores weren’t hurting. Kanan must have treated them with something. He swallowed hard, feeling a little nauseous as he once again remembered that Kanan had seen her chest. But he hadn’t _done_ anything. There were no mysterious bruises, no _grossness_ … All Kanan had done was patch his wounds.

A small shuddering sub bubbled out of him. It was so overwhelming. What the hell kind of person _was_ Kanan? Were all Jedi like this? He not only patched Ezra up, but he treated him like a person and gave him _clarity_. Kark, Ezra has never felt more like _himself_ in his entire life. 

He quickly wiped his tears away. He needed to stop acting like such a crybaby. With a small sigh, he stripped off the rest of his clothes and put on the sweats and jacket Kanan had given him. 

As expected, they were comically large on him. Ezra could roll up the sleeves on the coat, but the sweats refused to stay rolled up. He huffed. Typical. 

Ezra was about to turn to leave when he glanced up at the top bunk. He wasn’t really hungry or anything. And frankly he’d be mortified if the others saw him like this. Especially Sabine. There’s now way she’d _ever_ see him as anything but a little kid ever again.

Besides, he had already been exhausted _before_ being jerked around emotionally for an hour. Lying down just sounded… good.

Mindful of the yards of loose fabric around him, Ezra climbed up to the top bunk. He let out a sigh as he curled up on his side and buried his face into the clean and crisp fabric of Kanan’s coat. This was nice. He felt his muscles relaxing as he sank into the cushioned surface, a pleasant earthy scent filling his senses that lulled him into sleep.

* * *

Young Caleb’s obsessive tendency to over-research anything that even remotely piqued his curiosity had proved invaluable in the years after the Purge. While he had lacked basic social and practical skills most people in the universe had, his vat of obscure knowledge had saved and aided him more than once. 

Still, he would have never expected his brief stint fervently researching trangender humans to have ended up being so critical in his lifetime. 

In the Temple, topics of sexuality and gender were taught in depth before they could become initiates. With so many different species and cultures intermixed at the Temple, it was important that all the younglings had a good understanding of what their peers might be experiencing. As Jedi, they were supposed to reject attachments, but that didn’t stop things like attraction from happening in some. It was important to understand this as part of their training.

As far as Kanan knew, there had been no transgender people in the Jedi Order at the time. After they had been taught about it, Caleb had tried to ask more specific questions, but his teacher had brushed him off. So he scoured the Archives in curiosity. He read about past trans Jedi. About what it meant, particularly for human ones. It was hard for him to wrap his head around, but he still found it fascinating. 

Kanan wasn’t sure how long Ezra had been on the streets, but he could fathom a guess that it was long enough that Ezra had _no_ such education. Although even if he had stayed in school, not all planets and cultures taught such things. Either way, obviously Ezra had never even heard of such a concept as being ‘trans’. And he had obviously suffered for it in more ways than one as a street rat.

If Kanan were being honest with himself, he would acknowledge that a large part of him was thrilled to have _this_ to focus on… instead of the impossible task of actually training Ezra as a Jedi. He had offered, yes, and he did think having the Force sensitive kid staying close was safer than just leaving him alone on an Imperially occupied planet. But what did he know about being a Jedi? Really? He had barely been a padawan himself when the Republic fell. 

So he might not be able to effectively teach Ezra about being a Jedi, but he can make damned sure Ezra had a safe place where he can start to understand himself.

That night, Kanan tried to do some more research to refresh himself on what he had read in the Temple, but the holonet seemed to be severely lacking in information for trans humans. Or hell, the concept of anyone being anything other than the designation they were given at birth. 

Great. So he had to rely on what he remembered. He supposed it was better than nothing…

He knew he was going to have to have a number of conversations with Ezra about safe binding and what his identity meant. And he knew at some point he was going to have to talk to the rest of the crew… He wouldn’t do it without Ezra’s knowledge, but something like this just wasn’t practical to hide in the long run. Given their line of work, it was going to be very easy for others to discover Ezra’s condition. 

Kanan wandered through the aisles of stalls in the abandoned refinery turned shadowport. Hera and Ezra had stayed on the ship while the rest of them were looking for supplies. Technically Kanan’s job was to get food, but he had promised Ezra that he would find him a compression shirt. They weren’t uncommon, but he was realizing he would have to figure out the size based on sight for Ezra. The kid was small, his ribs easily visible through his skin. That should change in a few months with proper and regular meals, so Ezra was probably going to need multiple sizes anyway. 

Kanan walked into one stall that looked to sell second-hand armor. As he looked through the bins of under armor, Kanan found a few shirts that might work for Ezra. At least, if he was a healthy weight. His short stature and skinny build were definitely a problem. He let out a sigh. Hopefully one of these shirts was small enough that Ezra could wear his own clothes without panicking or hiding. He knew that taping was another option, but the thought of helping Ezra figure that out was… uncomfortable. 

He hated to admit it, but it honestly all made him feel a bit uncomfortable. As much as he knew he could help Ezra, he still felt ill equipped to handle the whole situation. He wanted to ask Hera for help, but the last thing he wanted to do was betray Ezra’s trust, especially since he _just_ joined this crew after being on his own for Force knows how long. 

But it wasn’t going to be easy to hide this from Hera. They usually shared _everything_ with one another. He knew she was already a bit suspicious after Kanan informed the crew that Ezra would be bunking with him. She hadn’t questioned him directly about it, but there had been a silent understanding that Kanan would want to keep his cabin to himself for those nights where Hera would want to slip in. Kanan was probably going to have to give her a partial truth. That Ezra just wasn’t comfortable bunking with Zeb. He still didn't like it.

Paying for the shirts and tucking them underneath the other groceries, Kanan headed back to the ship. Ezra was probably still hiding in his cabin. Even if Kanan’s jacket did obscure his chest, he still felt too ridiculous to leave and face the crew looking like _that._ Kanan didn’t blame him. He really did looked like a small child in those oversized clothes. 

He walked through the ship, relieved to see that the others didn’t seem to be back yet. He put away the food before returning to his cabin. As he anticipated, he found Ezra lying on his bunk, wearing his now laundered clothes as he stared up at the ceiling. But his head perked up as Kanan walked in. “Did you get them?” he asked quickly.

“I did…” Kanan put the bag down and pulled out the shirts. “Got a few sizes, hopefully one of them fits.”

Ezra jumped down from the top bunk and almost tripped over himself as he scrambled over to him. He took the compression shirts with wide eyes, rubbing the fabric between his fingers. “A-And these’ll make me flat?”

“Assuming one of them fits you.” If he were honestly with himself, he wasn’t sure how much they would flatten Ezra’s chest. Probably not as much as Ezra would prefer, judging from just how tightly his bandages had been on yesterday. Kanan started to wonder how long Ezra had been binding like that. Ezra’s ribcage might have some serious damage from the prolonged pressure. That was something to address later.

Ezra looked at each shirt, immediately tossing them aside one by one. He got down to two which seemed to be close in size. He didn’t try on either until he meticulously compared the dimensions of each, and eventually deciding that one was just a hair smaller than the other. Then he glanced up at Kanan. “Um…”

“Oh right.” Kanan turned around so his back was to him. There were a few moments of silence before he could hear the sound of rustling fabric. Ezra let out a small grunt, and Kanan assumed he was struggling to get the shirt on. They were tight by design. 

Then there was a stretch of silence again.

“Ezra?” Kanan questioned. He didn’t turn around, but he did tilt his head slightly back. “Everything okay?”

“Um… I-I don’t know…”

Kanan turned his head just enough to see Ezra out of his periphery. He had the black short-sleeved shirt on, and as far as Kanan could tell, it was doing its job. It was long on him, the bottom of his shirt rolled up around his hips, but it actually seemed to be the right size around his torso. But Ezra was just staring down at himself with a conflicted expression. “What’s wrong?” Kanan asked.

Ezra glanced up at Kanan before looking back down. “I don’t know, I just…” He pressed his hands to his chest. “Th-they’re still sticking out…” he mumbled.

Kanan snorted. “You know men’s chests aren’t concave, right?”

Ezra frowned. “Concave?”

“Like… hollowed out.”

“Oh I-I know but…” Ezra reached for his orange shirt and put it back on, looking down at his chest again. “You can still see them!”

Kanan looked at Ezra’s body more critically. He wasn’t seeing what Ezra saw. No one would give his chest a second thought.

Then he had a thought. “Ezra, look at me.”

Ezra looked up, his hands still pressed up against his chest. 

Kanan turned to the side. “Look…" He smoothed a hand over his shirt. "I’m not entirely flat either. Do I look like a woman to you?”

“What? No,” Ezra said, as if the notion was ludicrous. 

Kanan gave a slight chuckle at the reaction, turning back fully to him. “You look fine, kid. I promise.”

Ezra let out a shaky sigh. It was obvious that he was still doubtful, but he slowly nodded. “Alright…" he murmured.

Kanan smiled. “I’m glad I found one that fits you. Now… you’re going to need to take it back off now.”

“Wha… _why?!_ ” Ezra squeaked. 

“You need to treat those sores again,” Kanan said, keeping his own demeanor calm. “Honestly, you probably shouldn’t be wearing a compression shirt at all while you’re healing, but I also don’t want you to stay hidden away in this cabin forever. Once you treat your sores and put on fresh bandages, you can put the shirt back on."

Ezra’s shoulders relaxed, and he instantly became calmer. “Oh, uh… y-yeah, that seems okay…”

“Alright, I’ll be right back.”

Kanan was about to leave to grab the medkit when Ezra spoke up again. “Kanan?” 

He turned back to him. “Yes?”

The kid bit his lip, looking down at the ground as he swayed from foot to foot and fiddled with the bottom of his shirt. “I… th-thank you. For doing all of this…” His voice choked, and he visibly swallowed. “F-For not hating me.”

Kanan’s heart ached at the whispered words. “Ezra, _nothing_ about you is worth hating.”

Ezra’s shoulders were trembling, and Kanan could tell he was trying not to cry. In the Force, he could keenly Ezra’s distress, doubt, and _hope_. Kanan stepped forward and placed a reassuring hand on the kid’s shoulder. “Like I said, Ezra… I’m on your side.”

With a small wet huff, Ezra looked up at Kanan with a smile. A genuinely happy smile. “Just.. thanks,” he murmured again. 

Kanan smiled back. “Don't mention it, kid.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed! I might write some oneshots and ficlets in this 'verse in the future, but this is it for now.

**Author's Note:**

> Part Two is going to be Kanan helping Ezra deal with a few practical matters


End file.
